


Sweet Dreams

by ForgottenChesire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6. Soulbond fic inspired by the lyrics to My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. Hobbits can hear and see their soulmates in their dreams as long as they’re alive, that’s why a hobbit will never marry anyone else than their soulmate and a hobbit who is not married to his/her soulmate by age 40 is considered very odd indeed.</p><p>For overtherisingstar</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They started when he was five, he would go to sleep worn out from a days worth of searching for elves in the forests and when his head hit the pillow he would be whisked away. To a glorious mountain hall!! But the best sight, which was not the gold nor the statues made of what even he knew to be valuable stone nor the tapestries hung with special care but the Dwarf standing in the hall. He would smile gently down at Bilbo and pick him up with care, love sparkling in those blue eyes and he would clutch at black hair. That is how he spent his nights exploring the great mountain with his Heart. Erebor became a home away from from for him, he knew which halls were safe and which were not, at least not safe for a small fauntling but perfectly safe for a Dwarf! His Dwarf would talk for hours about his kingdom, his family, everything that mattered to him. They were so close that he forgot that he never learned his Dwaf's name.  
  
He remembers Fell Winter like one remembers a nightmare that won't end. His dreams weren't even a reprieve anymore, his Dwarf knew something was wrong and tried to make it better. He remembers the day when his mother took him aside tears streaming down his face begging to know what he dreamed because her dreams were so empty now. _“Please Bilbo, tell me! Please... please... tell me your dreams aren't empty. Tell me that you can still see them, can still hear them.”_ That night he curled up in his mother's lap and cried with her, trying to fill her dreams with images from his, trying to fill the oozing emptiness left by father's death. He didn't sleep that night nor many nights afterward. Then when Fell Winter ended and he at the age of twenty two became the Baggins of Bag End, burying his two parents side by side in the garden covered in flowers, he almost didn't want to dream. He didn't want his Soulmate, his Heart to see how damaged he was, how broken. He wasn't the same fauntling, the same Hobbit. His Dwarf didn't care wrapping him in strong arms and whispering soft assurances into his ear.  
  
As he neared forty the Hobbits began to whisper, by now he should have courted his Soulmate, should be preparing a marriage. Even Lobelia Bracegirdle was married! Bilbo smiled and assured all of his neighbors that his Soulmate is alive and well just not in the Shire. He became an oddity, someone to be pitied. _“Don't you know? Bilbo Baggins has gone mad in his grief! Poor dear still believes that his Heart is still alive.” “I don't know how Mad Baggins does it. I would have Faded long before now if my Heart wasn't alive.”_ There were times when he wondered how they would react if he told them his Heat is a Dwarf. A Dwarf who was to be king. Forty came and passed and soon he turned fifty. A confirmed bachelor whose Heart had died, presumably during Fell Winter. Poor Mad Baggins who is left all alone in that great big smial built for a large family and not just on Hobbit. There were times when he wanted to leave the Shire and search for his Heart but he feared being rejected. His dreams were just that dreams. It is common for _Hobbit_ Soulmates to share dreams, to see each other, hear each other in the dreams. But his Soulmate is a _Dwarf_ not a Hobbit, what if his Dwarf hadn't had the same dreams?  
  
So when at the age of fifty on a fine breezy day that the Wizard came upon his doorstep and forced him into going onto an Adventure by tricking him into hosting a party for thirteen Dwarrows. How could he say no to his Heart? He couldn't. The Adventure was full of mishaps and misunderstandings and he was proven right that Thorin didn't remember or know of the dreams. His Heart seemed to hate him with every fiber of his majestic being and he couldn't bring himself to ask Thorin anything. But when the Carrock and the hug happened he had hope that his love would be returned. That he wouldn't Fade because his Heart had no room for him. He came to know all of the Dwarrows that he hoped would become his family. Let them know as much as he could about Hobbit culture and they did the same. His hope, his happiness came to a screeching end though when they finally came to Erebor and he riddled with a dragon, found the Arekenstone and unleashed the dragon on Lake Town.  
  
Thorin changed and not for the better. War was coming, and Thorin seemed content to just waste away on his piles of gold. Madly searching for the gem that resided in his pocket. Oh the cruel irony. _What have I got in my pocket? Not thread, not my hands nor bats wings or dust. But a magical ring and the Arkenstone._ War with Men and Elves... until the ravens came bearing news that Orcs marched on Erebor, that the Men and Elves were to withdraw if Thorin did not come to his senses and ask for an alliance.  
  


That is what led him to do what he is dooing. Sneaking past Bombur, dear sweet Bombur who is a Hobbit in a Dwarf's body, and out of the mountain. Down to the camps of Elves and Men where he will make his plea to Bard and Thranduil. Where he will offer the Arkenstone, claimed as his thirteenth of the bounty, for an alliance. They accept his offering and beg him to stay, Thorin won't understand, won't care, too far gone in his madness. But Bilbo can't stay away. Even in it's current state he can see it as Thorin once did. He understands why his Heart loves it so, it grieves him that he may not be welcome once light is shed on what he's done. No amount of apologies will make this better. He's betrayed his Heart in hopes of saving him. When morning comes and the Arkenstone is revealed Thorin is angry, he is enraged and all other emotions that Bilbo knew he would feel. When his Heart dangles high above the safety of ground he wishes he would drop him so he wouldn't have to live, no matter how short of a time, with the pain of having Thorin hate him.  
  


Gandalf shows up just in the nick of time and saves him from a more certain death. The Wizard seems to know just how deeply this strikes at his soul for he carries him much like a babe to the camp. Begs him not to give up, that Thorin may just come to his sense after the battle. The battle, the only reason he doesn't give into his grief, give in to the want to cry, to scream, to never awaken once he tires himself out. When the battle starts he's on the front line wearing his magic little ring. The battle is long and hard and he manages to get into the middle of the fight. He watches in horror as Fili and Kili fall, he screams and fights his way to them. Placing shaking hands to their throats he is glad to still feel a pulse. Looking up he is able to watch Thorin fight Azog and bring him down only to fall to his son Bolg. His body stills and his heart seems to stop, he can't convince his body to move, can't get over to Thorin. Something hits his head and he blacks out, landing on something soft. He won't know until later that he fell onto Kili and that's what saves his life, the young Dwarf is able to pull off the ring so that others can see the Hobbit.  
  
His head pounds as he wakes, the world around him blury and out of focus. His heart still feels empty and he stumbles out of the tent he is in. he needs to find Thorin! He has to. Slowly he searches, running across a Dwarf from the Iron Hills who looks so somber yet he leads him to the tent Thorin is in. Laying there on a cot and covered in bandages is Thorin Oakensheild. Storm blue eyes look his way and he falls onto the cot. Crying and begging for Thorin's forgiveness. The mighty Dwarf soothes back his hair and whispers into his ear. Granting the forgiveness that he seeks and requesting his own. _If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now._ Bilbo sat there sobbing for a long time and the Dwarrows let him. The understood his need to wail and greive. That night he truly didn't want to fall alseep afraid of the emptiness that it would bring, the finality that it would bring. Thorin is dead and he hasn't the heart to ask for anyone else. So while everyone else is still asleep he slinks away, foolish he knows but he doesn't expect to make it Mirkwood. Little does he know that the ring in his pocket won't let him die. It'll be a long time before he's able to rest peacefully, his dreams of Thorin replaced with fire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I uh got some inspiration for a second chapter and this came to be. There may be a third chapter if I a) get an idea for it and b) someone thinks there should be a third part. It's a bit short.

The return to the Shire is hard. He expects Lobelia to be cruel in her takeover of Bag End but she takes one look at Bilbo and she sets to mothering him, harshly ordering everyone to return everything NOW. Even Otho had assisted in helping get everything returned. They became the Hobbit’s he remembered from his youth, a prickly pair but protective of those they considered their own. When he told them and many of his other relatives and friends what transpired they hugged him and soothed him. Fears of his Fading were bright in their eyes even when he said it would be a reprieve from the pain, the emptiness. He just wants it to end.

Time passes and his dreams are filled with fire and a dark voice telling to come home. Leave behind the green hills and come home to the mountain, only it isn't his mountain. It’s burning hot and filled with ash. Then one night he dreams of Thorin, a bright smile on the Dwarf’s face as he takes him into his arms. It can’t be a Heart dream, it can’t because Thorin is dead. The next morning he is woken up by frantic knocking on his door and he collapses. Primula and Drogo are dead. They went out to boat and never came back. Now their child is all alone. Bilbo opens his home to the young faunt.

Frodo is a smart lad with his bright blue eyes and curly black hair. He listens to Bilbo’s story always entrapped in them. And later he adds three other little fauntlings to his tales and he can see the Heart matches in the not so sly looks and he grins a true grin. His Ring grows heavier with each passing day and his dreams darker. His eleventy first birthday is coming up and he has a plan. He aches to see mountains again. Maybe there is time for one more adventure and maybe he can convince a certain gardener that he _is_ worth his nephews love and he shouldn’t try and transfer his love onto another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is the happy ending that was wanted,

He feels stretched, thin and old though he doesn’t look like it. His birthday is closer than ever and he has an escort that will take him to Erebor via the path the took the first time. He smiles at his nephew, for his birthday is also his nephews. He’s going to miss Frodo but… He looks east and smiles. He misses someone else more. Gandalf arrives, late as always though he’ll deny it. It’s so good to see his friend, to tell him his plan, or a bit of his plan. The Wizard agrees that he should go, looks at him oddly when he just tilts his head.

The party is fun and he feels young again. Though the fight with Gandalf drains him. He spoke like that foul creature, Gollum. He drops the Ring without a thought. It is evil and he looks up at his friend, afraid. Is it safe to leave with Frodo? gandalf soothes his fears and he leaves Bag End for the last time. Three of his Dwarrows wait for him, they are silent for the most part though they grin when they see him. Apologise for not coming to see him sooner or writing. But he waves it off just glad that they are here now.

He barely makes it to Rivendell, his age hitting him hard with the loss of his Ring. He can’t breath and his vision is fuzzy. His dreams have returned to those of Thorin which leaves him waiting for a shoe to drop. Dwalin has to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way when he collapses. The Elves beg him to stay, to heal but Bilbo wants, _needs_ , to see the mountain. None of the Dwarrows have said a word to him about Thorin or the boys. Part of him fears that it is because they don’t want him to know, that he wasn’t as forgiven as he thinks. He pushes that thought away.

Dale is so much prettier now than it was when he left. It’s been fifty years since he'd last seen it so Bard is no longer the King which is a shame. But the current one, either Bain or Bain’s son, he can’t recall which, and isn’t that worrisome, is a very good King. Dwalin smiles sadly at him and whispers that they have a surprise for him and covers his eyes. He waits and hears the door to the room that he was given opens. The large hands move and what breath he had is taken from him. Because standing before him is Thorin alive and well. Tears well up in his eyes as he reaches out a shaky hand.

“You were dead….”

“No just in a deep sleep though I thought I was dying. You didn’t stay.”

“I couldn’t. Not without you.”

He doesn’t understand why he had quit dreaming of Thorin then if he was not dead. Unless… His Ring…. He had been dreaming of Thorin before it and that night before Primula and Drogo died he had in a fit of hurt tossed his Ring into his mother’s glory box unable to look at it’s golden sheen. He doesn’t remember why he took it out of the box though. The time he spends with Thorin is Valar sent, he can’t get enough of it and though he is old and Thorin so much older the Dwarf King courts him properly. His health declines with time and soon they are on their way back to Rivendell. Fili and Kili ruling the mountain.

His Ring is _the_ Ring and he left it with his nephew. His nephew is going on a dangerous quest. Oh such a fool he is. Thorin is there every step of the way. A sturdy shoulder for him to lean on. He doesn’t need to see Mount Doom blow to know that the Ring is gone. He can feel it’s loss in his bones. He’s so old now. And he’s so tired. He and Thorin are married now and Bilbo keeps waking fearing that it is just a dream. Thorin is there each time.

Then one night as Elrond whispers about Sailing Bilbo goes to sleep next to his King. Happy to know Frodo is married to Sam and they have many children. Neither wake when Lindir comes in with a cheery ‘good morning’. They’ve gone on another adventure with their Company who have already passed.


End file.
